Storm of the Heart
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: Dime stealing, thunderstorms, rivalries...oh, and love, can't forget that. Just a normal day right?


"Magica! Stop right there!" Scrooge yelled as he chased after the witch, Donald and the boys hot on his heels.

She's managed to get her hands on his dime yet again, and darn it he really needed to speak with Gyro about some sort of device to counteract foof bombs. Magica cackled as she ran, adrenaline pushing her forward. Now she'd done it! She had the dime _and _the thrill of the chase, not that she'd admit to enjoying it.

The six ducks ran on, dodging objects and people alike. Magica knew if she could just find someplace to hide for a moment she could safely teleport and buy some time from their confusion. She glanced back, gritting her teeth as she noticed Scrooge was gaining on her. She pushed onward, straining to go faster, sweat beginning to slide down her neck and back. Scrooge too was sweating, too concerned for his coin to care about the mess he was making of himself. His nephews had long since fallen behind, and the witch was nearly in reach, if he could just get a few paces closer…

A loud crack of thunder startled them, causing them to stumble. They looked up at the sky, which had gone from a light slate gray to nearly black without their notice. Scrooge glanced at Magica, and noting she was still distracted, took advantage of it and dove, tackling her. They crashed to the ground and began tumbling, his tackle carrying more momentum than he'd intended.

"Agh, you loony old fool! Get off of me!" Magica yelled as they rolled, both fighting for the upper hand.

For once, luck was on her side as the fall ended with her on top, straddling his waist. Neither moved for a moment, just staring at the other in shock at their position, before Magica sprang away, a light blush coloring her cheeks. Still dazed, Scrooge couldn't help but focus on how she'd felt pressed against him, only snapping out of it when another peal of thunder sounded. Magica too seemed to remember what was at stake, as she pulled her wand from her sleeve. She fired a spell, deliberately missing, and Scrooge jumped up.

Back in normal territory, both felt more at ease.

"Give me back my dime, woman!" Scrooge demanded, swinging his cane.

"Now, now Scroogey darling, finders keepers," Magica taunted, blocking the blow.

"Finders?! You wretch, you stole it!"

"Same difference," she said, shrugging and ducking another strike.

The battle continued in much the same way, neither gaining an advantage over the other, all the while being serenaded by a chorus of lightning and thunder. They were nearly beak to beak when the first raindrop fell, causing them to pause.

"Lovely, now on top of dealing with you it's going to rain!" Scrooge snapped as more raindrops fell with increasing frequency.

Getting soaked in the rain was not something he wanted to partake in, nor did he think Magica did either.

"If you'd just give me the stupid dime this could be over with!" Magica snapped back.

"Are you daft? I'll never part with it!"

'_Same old Magica,' _he thought, though not without fondness. '_Though I do wish she'd give up on the dime.'_

"I think you will!" Magica said, shoving him forcefully and beginning to run once more.

Recovering, Scrooge began the chase for the second time. It was then the downpour began in earnest, Mother Nature apparently having had enough of their squabble. It was easy enough for Scrooge to grab her after that, most of her focus on not losing her balance rather than on him. Catching her arm, he wrenched his precious dime from her grasp, relieved to have it back.

"Let me go!" Magica yelped, tugging her arm.

By now thoroughly soaked, she was more than ready to admit defeat if it meant getting out of the storm faster.

"Certainly," Scrooge said, immediately loosening his grip.

Unfortunately for Magica, she had just tugged rather hard, and the force sent her flying onto her tail right in the middle of a large puddle. Scrooge couldn't help it, the look of utter shock on her face and her drenched appearance sent him into a fit of laughter, one that was cut short when he realized she wasn't getting up. Guilt and concern overwhelmed him; what if she was actually hurt?

"Magica? Are you alright?" he asked tentatively, stepping closer.

"Oh sure. Beaten, soaked, and freezing, never better," she grumbled. Frowning, he held out his hand. She eyed it warily for a moment before grasping it and allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Thank you."

Sighing, she looked to the sky, her own frown appearing. Scrooge could guess what she was thinking and before he could stop himself he was grasping her hand.

"Come home with me and wait this out," he offered, to his surprise completely at ease.

She eyed their conjoined hands before looking at him suspiciously, though she made no move to pull away.

"Why?"

Scrooge rolled his eyes.

"Because you can't fly in this, and I doubt you have a place to stay."

He was right of course, and she didn't have the energy to teleport either. She really had no choice but to accept, and _no_, her heart didn't jump for joy, thank you very much.

"Only until the storm is over, no longer," she said hesitantly.

"I believe that was the offer," he replied dryly.

"Smartbeak," she murmured, though the insult held no venom.

Smirking, he offered her his arm, which she accepted. They began the trek to McDuck Manor, the rain continuing to pour relentlessly.

"Why are we walking? Why not call your crazy driver and have him pick us up?" Magica griped after a bit.

"Unfortunately, I didnae grab a radio when I left the bin. I was more concerned about _other things_," he said, giving her a pointed look.

She rolled her eyes but kept quiet, supposing he had a valid point.

* * *

By the time they reached the mansion both were shivering, though Scrooge had tucked Magica into his side in an attempt to keep her warm.

"Damn this rain," Magica muttered, and Scrooge silently agreed with her.

It hadn't let up for a moment on their entire walk, and had they not known Duckburg so well they could very well have gotten lost. The front door swung open as they approached, Mrs. Beakley, Donald, and the boys stepping out to greet him. Magica's grip on his jacket tightened a fraction at that, nerves flaring, and he squeezed her waist in response.

"There you are, Unca Scrooge!" Huey called out.

"Did you get your dime back?" asked Dewey.

"We couldn't find you after you got so far ahead, so we came home and decided to wait and see if you did too before going to find you," added Louie.

"Hush boys, there'll be time for questions and such later. Right now Mr. McDuck needs to come inside and get warm and dry," Mrs. Beakley said.

It was obvious they hadn't seen Magica yet, or he was sure they wouldn't be so calm.

"That's the plan," he answered cheerily, hoping to distract them a bit longer.

It was Dewey who noticed her first.

"Um, isn't that Magica De Spell?" he asked, pointing to her. "Like, the same Magica De Spell you were just chasing two hours ago?"

"Get away from our uncle, you witch!" Huey yelled.

"Haven't you caused enough trouble?" Louie asked.

Magica seemed to shrink at their words, and would have fled had Scrooge not kept his arm around her. He shot her a concerned look before meeting his housekeeper's eyes. She understood his silent plea and turned to the kids as the two stepped up under the protection of the overhang.

"Boys, why don't you go inside? You too, Donald," Mrs. Beakely added after noticing the harsh glare he was giving the woman.

"But—!" they all started, only to be silenced by a glare of her own. "Okay," they mumbled, shuffling inside.

Sighing, the older woman turned back to the pair, noting how oddly comfortable they seemed with one another, and the protective grip her employer had on the woman's waist. Not for the first time she wondered if something was going on between them. They made quite the pair, both soaked through and trembling, and damn it she didn't want to but she felt a surge of pity for the witch, who looked so small and nervous tucked into Scrooge's side.

"I'm sure there's a story here, but for now we need to get you taken care of before you catch a cold." They sneezed simultaneously, sharing a look of shock. "If you haven't already," she added.

She ushered them inside, quickly shoving Magica into one of the downstairs bathrooms and pushing Scrooge toward his own. She made quick work of setting a fire in his room, sending Webby to find something for Magica to wear. Scrooge emerged in thick pajamas as she finished, still shivering, and took a seat on the small couch she'd moved in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you, Bentina."

"You're welcome," she answered, handing him a thick quilt.

He fiddled with the edge but made no move to unfold it, instead busting himself trying to look nonchalant while scanning the room.

"Where's Magica?"

Her eyebrow rose along with her suspicions.

"With Webby, I asked her to find something for her to wear."

She observed him closely, noting how the fidgeting increased. Awkward silence rang around the room until he sighed heavily and stilled.

"I suppose you're wondering why she's here?"

She was barely able to bite back a sarcastic remark, instead choosing to gently coax him along.

"Well, to be honest, it is a little strange," she admitted.

"She can't fly in this storm, and she has nowhere to go. I couldn't leave her."

Her initial thought was '_yes you could have'_ but she knew that Scrooge while greedy, was genuinely caring and a gentleman.

"That was very kind of you, sir."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "It isn't as though I hate her or anything. Loathe sure, dislike yes, but not hate."

'_Definitely not hate,' _he thought, his heart beating a tad faster at the thought of the witch. He wouldn't look at her, so she knew he wasn't being entirely honest, and she had just opened her beak to further push the topic when a noise caught her attention. Muffled voices sounded from the hall, and they turned to face them as Webby entered, pulling a nervous looking Magica along by the hand and talking a mile a minute. Mrs. Beakely grinned, pleased at least one of the children wasn't harassing the witch. She decided to let the conversation go and rather observe their interactions to confirm her theory.

"I see Webby managed to find something for you to wear," she said, noting the change in her outfit.

The witch now wore a black T-shirt, most likely borrowed from Donald if the band logo was any indication.

"Yes, she's been quite helpful," Magica replied, giving the girl a small smile.

Webby beamed back at her, pleased with the praise. Magica glanced at Scrooge, blushing when she noticed how he was looking at her. He couldn't help it really. She had no right to look so damn adorable. He managed to close his beak, but didn't take his eyes off her. Dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her wet hair beginning to curl, he supposed she might just be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Sensing the mood beginning to shift, Mrs. Beakley ushered Webby out of the room, following behind her. She smirked to herself. She knew there was something between the two.

"Make sure you sit by the fire, Ms. De Spell," she called over her shoulder. "It'll help you warm up."

It might not have been very subtle, but then subtlety had never worked on Scrooge, and she had no doubt the same was true of Magica, alike as they were. Silence filled the room as the door shut, neither knowing what exactly to say. Magica averted her gaze, instead looking around the room. Lavishly designed, though sparsely decorated, she could easily tell who called it home. She shivered, still chilled from the rain, and Scrooge didn't miss it. And though he was more nervous than he'd ever been in her presence, he called out, a blush tinting his beak and cheeks pink.

"Well, come here before you freeze," he said, nodding toward the empty spot beside him.

She noticed then that he avoided her gaze, and saw the faint blush, and had to grin. Who'd have thought the great Scrooge McDuck could get embarrassed? She sat beside him somewhat stiffly, her amusement fading. Now what? She was alone with the man she might, sort of, be in love with, not that she'd ever admit it.

She jumped when he tucked the blanket around them both, daring to catch his eye. He looked away quickly, and awkwardness filled the air, so different from their usual comfort. She was careful to keep her distance, not allowing a single feather to touch his. In truth she didn't know what to do, the situation was so odd. She knew what she _wanted _to curl against him, cuddle close and let his warmth chase away the cold from her feathers, but she couldn't do that. It would only cause him to kick her out, so she'd rather be still as a statue.

Scrooge watched her hold the stiff pose out of the corner of his eye, wanting to break the silence but unsure how. He wanted to hold her, to love her, but he couldn't. She'd surely hex him if he so much as tried. But he couldn't help his feelings nor ignore the urge to protect her. Magica shivered again, tucking herself up, still avoiding Scrooge. He watched her a few minutes longer before sighing and extending his arm. At least if he was going to be made into a fool it would be on his terms. She looked at him quizzically.

"You're shivering." She looked at him blankly. He sighed. "You're still cold, come here and let me help you," he urged gently.

Her eyes widened and she blushed as she realized what he meant. Had she accidentally spoken her desires out loud without realizing it? His face gave nothing away so she couldn't be sure. He stared at her expectantly, not moving. His heart beat quickly, almost painfully in his chest as he waited for her response.

"I, um, well, a-are you sure?" she stammered.

Because oh god, how she wanted to.

His gaze softened, no longer anticipatory but almost loving. The soft look nearly took her breath away, though he didn't notice that. He could tell she wanted to accept his offer (to his shock and joy) but was nervous.

"Magica, I only want to help. I won't hurt you, you know that."

And she did. So she slid over, allowing him to pull her to his side once more. She was tense at first, as was he, but the longer they sat the more comfortable they became. (It was better than she could ever have imagined). After all, he'd held her before, what was so different now? Perhaps the fact it was so intimate, what with them being in pajamas and the fire. Magica soon found she didn't care, and willingly cuddled closer, enjoying the affection and pretending it was from something other than concern.

Scrooge, for his part, was torn. On one hand, he deeply enjoyed holding the woman, repressed feelings coming to the surface. On the other, he knew that if he allowed himself to completely enjoy the moment it would only hurt worse when she inevitably returned home and their usual dynamic resumed. (And god help him, he didn't know if he _could_ go back to that now that he knew what it felt like to hold her).

"Thank you," Magica said, breaking the silence and his thoughts.

"You're welcome. After all, I couldn't have just left you."

Which was true. Even if he wasn't hopelessly in love with her, he wouldn't have left her out there.

"But you could have. Why didn't you?"

She was no fool, she knew the trouble she constantly caused. It would have made more sense for him to leave her, even if the thought hurt her. Scrooge tensed. The conversation was heading into dangerous territory, one he was not prepared to visit. He supposed he could always lie, crack a smart aleck reply, but she knew him too well, as well as he knew her, and she'd know he wasn't telling the truth. But the truth itself wasn't an option.

Magica felt him tense, and suddenly the atmosphere felt heavy, as though the smallest action would set off a chain of irreversible events. Reluctantly, she shrugged off his arm and pushed herself up to face him, the blanket slipping down. She narrowed her eyes as she observed him. There was something going on here, she just couldn't figure out what.

"Scrooge?" she pressed, determined to get an answer.

"Can we please just drop it?" he replied, so unlike himself, never a man to back down.

She blinked, startled. What could possibly make him react like that? She had only asked...oh. So that was it then. Her face fell as she pulled away, walls slamming up.

"I see. Pity and a desire to save your all-important image," she spat, sadness turning to anger. "Of course it wouldn't do for someone to realize you'd left a woman in such a state and tarnish your name. Why, what would that do for business?" she snapped mockingly.

She had been a fool to think any of his goodwill had come from genuine concern for her. He'd only ever thought about money, and that was all he'd ever think about. She grasped tight to her anger as she tried to ignore how much that realization hurt.

Scrooge stares at her, mouth agape as his brain tried to process her words. Surely she didn't think that was why he'd helped her? Staring at her, back partially turned to him, arms crossed as if to both protect and hold herself together, he realized she truly believed her own words, and he scrambled to correct her.

"No, that isn't—!" he stammered, reaching for her.

She slapped his hand away.

"Of course it is! Always money, money, money, never anything else! So tell me, how is it anything other than it appears?!"

There was something about this argument that was vastly different from all their others, and dimly he realized what it was. Over the years he'd seen her angry, enraged even, but nothing held a candle to the cold fury currently rolling from her in waves. This was a different kind of anger, fueled by the thought that he'd used her to protect himself. She was hurt, he realized, upset as he'd never seen, and something told him if he didn't fix this he'd never see her again. His heart lurched at the thought.

But why was she so angry? She'd done far worse things, and admittedly so had he, so why was this her breaking point?...No, it couldn't be. She couldn't possibly…But as he stared at her, obviously holding back tears, he thought maybe she could. Regardless, there was only one way to fix the mess he created, even if he was wrong in his assumptions. He steeled his nerves and opened his mouth.

"Magica, I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. All thoughts of money vanished when I saw you sitting in that puddle."

He was careful to keep his voice soft but serious, tone just the right balance of firm and soothing. It appeared to work as she at least faced him once more.

"And why was that?" she asked, intrigued but still guarded.

"If you want the truth, it's because I care about you." Her heart skipped a beat. "I was worried you were hurt, and I was worried for your well being. That's why I asked you here."

"And why would you care for me when I cause you nothing but problems?" she asked, anger fading. "You have no reason to."

She was tired now, tired of the game they were playing, tired of the conversation, and tired of hiding her feelings.

"That's true," he acknowledged, sliding closer and grasping her hands, "but I do. Very deeply."

"Scrooge…"

It was partly a warning, partly an urge to continue. Something in his tone caught her attention, and suddenly she wasn't as tired anymore. She stared at their combined hands and then at him, noticing complete sincerity on his part. She didn't dare to hope he meant what she wanted him to. Scrooge took a deep breath, it was now or never.

"Magica, I know you can't possibly feel the same way, but I love you."

Pure shock enveloped her, rendering her incapable of a reaction. Surely he was joking, just another cruel trick, but no, he meant it. He really, truly meant it! Scrooge smiled nervously as he waited for her response, watching the emotions play across her face as the silence stretched. Before Magica could stop herself she was yanking him forward into a kiss, successfully stunning him stupid. She blushed as she pulled away, tucking a lock of hair back into place.

Scrooge remained frozen for a few moments before he was able to speak, eyes wide.

"You...you kissed me," he said after he recovered. "Does this mean?"

Any other time he'd be embarrassed by the hope and slight desperation in his voice, but not now.

"Of course it does, you old fool," Magica said, but only fondness coated the words. A huge grin exploded across his beak. She kissed him again. "Hold me?"

He did just that, gathering her to his chest and lying them down, covering them with the blanket once more. When Mrs. Beakely poked her head in to check on them the next morning she couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, Magica curled on top of Scrooge, his arms around her, and both sleeping peacefully.


End file.
